Once on a Dusty Afternoon
by MischiefHasBeenManaged
Summary: Remus finds Hermione crying in the attic of Twelve Grimmauld Place during the anniversary celebrations of Voldemort's death. Entry in the Twin Exchange's Monthly Challenge for February 2011.


**This is an entry in the Twin Exchange Monthly Challenge for February.**

**My location is Grimmauld Place's attic, provided to me by GrandeVanillaSkimLatte.**

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It was a warm summer afternoon in May, the sun was out and the few clouds that were in the sky were fluffy and white. It was the perfect type of day to sit happily with the ones you love and listen to the birds chirp in the softly swaying trees. Unfortunately, one young woman, twenty-three years of age, was not enjoying the beautiful summer day with the ones she loved. No, Hermione Granger was sitting in the dusty attic of Twelve Grimmauld Place, while her friends were below her celebrating the anniversary of the defeat of Lord Voldemort.

_They_ were surrounded by their loved ones, _she_ was not. Even if she were with them she wouldn't be. She knew they loved her, yes, but every single one of them was in love. They all had someone to share the wonderful party with. She was the odd one out, the only one not to have found love, and she hated it. All she wanted for was to find someone that she loved and that could love her in return, even if it wasn't the man she wanted. Was that too much to ask for? She didn't think it was. Everyone deserved love, didn't they? Why would she be any different?

She was at the point where she was fighting back tears, trying uselessly to convince herself that someone would love her one day. At that point, she certainly didn't feel like it would happen. She felt so alone, even though there were at least thirty people below her. They probably hadn't even realised she had left.

A soft, yet heavy thudding from under her made her jump a little, knocking over the box she was leaning against and sending miscellaneous objects clattering across the room. The footsteps stopped and Hermione cursed under her breath. The last thing she wanted was for someone to drag her back down to the party. All she had wanted was an afternoon to herself to wallow in her self-pity without being disturbed, but life had other plans, as it always did. Nothing seemed to be going right for her these days, even her job at the Ministry of Magic was becoming unbearably dull and tedious, making her mood even worse.

She listened as the person below her slowly ascended the ladder leading up to the attic. As she started backing away from the entrance, she very nearly knocked over a box of chipped wineglasses, but managed to right herself and save them from falling to the ground. Careful not to bump into anything else, she moved silently into the far corner of the room, where the lighting was its lowest. She squeezed herself in between the wall and an ancient chest of draws, hoping not to be noticed and for whoever it was to see nothing and leave her be.

"Hello?" a gentle, masculine voice called into the darkness, "Is there anyone up here?"

She recognised the voice immediately, it was _his_ voice.

"Hermione, is that you?" he asked next, making her tense up.

He must've noticed that she was gone, but how? Surely he had better things to pay attention to, surely his _wife_ would've kept him occupied, but there he was, mere metres away from her. The man she was growing to love, despite everything. His age, his condition, his _wife_, his _son_. She hated herself for having these feeling towards him. He was married with a child, but no matter what she did, she couldn't push her feelings away. Ignoring it only lasted a certain amount time, and that time had ended a few months ago.

For years, it had worked, but now, her crush was turning into more. A simple school-girl crush had begun to morph into love during February of that year, the fourteenth to be exact. Valentine's Day. He had bought his wife flowers, taken their son to his wife's mother for the night and then surprised said wife with a romantic picnic on a beach on some tiny tropical island. It sounded perfect to Hermione. It had both shocked and annoyed her to realise that one of the reasons it sounded so perfect was because he was going to be there. She had though she was over her crush, but apparently she hadn't been.

That day was also when she became acutely aware she was alone. While all her friends went out to celebrate the day of love with their significant others, she sat by herself in her office at the Ministry and did her paperwork. She heard about people being married, metaphorically, to their work, and she didn't want that to happen to her. She wanted to be married to _him_. She wanted to be the mother of his children, she wanted him to love _her_. As far-fetched and practically impossible as it was, she wanted his love more than anything she had ever wanted before. More, even, than she had wanted Voldemort dead.

It was funny how life worked out. She had done so much to help the world, saved more lives than she could count, but the world wasn't giving her anything back. At least, not the one thing she had yearned for so much over the past two and a half months. No one had thought to give her love. Everyone needed to be loved, to be adored, even if only by one person. _She_ needed that. And she wanted it beyond anything.

She hadn't realised she had been whimpering quietly as the tears stained her cheeks until he had found her.

"Hermione," he whispered softly, causing her to look up at him, "What's wrong?"

She simply shook her head, and looked down again, begging silently for him to leave, for her tears to stop, for everything to be okay.

"Please tell me," he asked softly as he crouched in front of her.

"It's a long story," she choked out, still looking away.

"I have time," he said.

She stayed quiet as his eyes raked over her trembling form. He hated seeing her so sad. He reached out a hand to wipe the tears off her cheeks, but she turned away so he couldn't. His hand hovered awkwardly in the air for a few moments, before it dropped back to his side.

"Are you sure you want to listen?" she asked him finally.

"I'm sure. Now, tell me what's wrong," he said, positioning himself in front of her, "Why are you up here?"

"I just couldn't stand being down there with everyone else anymore."

"Why?"

"I feel like I don't belong there, like I'm the odd one out. I'm the only one who isn't married, the only one who doesn't have children. They all do. They're all happily in love."

"And you aren't?"

She sighed, "I admit, I am in love," she told him, refusing to meet his eyes, "But I can't say I'm happy about it."

"Why not?"

"Because he doesn't love me," she answered simply.

He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her that if the man didn't love her he was an idiot, but forced himself not to, reminding himself that nothing good would come from it.

"He's one of them," she continued, "Married, has a child. I feel so guilty about loving him, like I'm doing something wrong."

"You can't help the way you feel, Hermione."

"I shouldn't love him. It'll never make me happy, he'll never love me."

"You don't know that, he might."

"But he's married! He loves his wife, I _do_ know that he could never love me."

They were both silent, neither knowing what to say, or even wanting to say more. It was obvious that there was nothing Remus could do to convince Hermione that whoever she loved could love her in return. She didn't need to say anything else, he knew what was wrong with her, what had made her flee from the celebrations below them.

"You need to get back to your wife," she told him rather bitterly.

"No, I don't."

"She'll be wondering where you are."

"No, she won't."

"But-"

"We're getting a divorce," he cut her off.

Her breath caught, "What?"

"We talked about it a couple of weeks ago. We just don't love each other anymore," he explained.

She gazed at him with wide eyes, not knowing how to react. She couldn't even bring herself to ask him why.

Luckily, being the intelligent man that he was, he read the curiosity in her eyes easily and continued, "It just happened," he sighed, "I fell in love with someone else."

While he was saying this, his hand lifted of its own accord to cup her cheek, but this time she didn't turn away. Her eyes closed as his rough hand caressed her face, wiping off all her tears. She wanted to ask him who it was, but if she didn't know, she could still have that tiny amount of hope that it was her, and she would hold onto that for as long as she could.  
She was pulled from her thoughts as she felt his lips press to hers. She made a startled squeak and her eyes snapped back open in shock. As he pulled back, she stared at him in disbelief, not sure exactly how to react. He was barely a foot away from her, on his hands and knees, leaning close and studying her reaction.

"M-" she choked up, "Me?"

"Yes, you, Hermione."

She shook her head, unable to comprehend what he was saying. He loved _her_? That was crazy, it was what happened in her dreamworld, but she hadn't ever imagined it would really happen.

"I know you don't love me, but I love you, Hermione. I just wanted to tell you that. I can't pretend to love someone I don't anymore."

He started moving away, but she put a hand on his chest to still him.

"Who ever said I didn't love you?" her voice was different, almost alien to her.

He could hardly concentrate on what she was saying because of her hand. He could feel the heat from it through his shirt.

"I love you, too, Remus," she told him, a few new tears leaking from her eyes.

Leaning up to him while he stared at her, she pressed her lips to his and she kissed him through her tears. She sighed as his mouth started to move against hers, both of them finding a rhythm easily. He pulled her into his lap as he sat down with his back against the chest of draws, not caring that the wood was covered in dust or if it would give way behind him because of their combined weights leaning against it. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and he tightened his around her waist. They memorized the moment, their first kiss, in the attic of the Black family home, tangled in each other's limbs and covered in dust. To them, it was perfect. But perfection never lasts forever.

They broke apart, both gulping in the much need oxygen as they were left breathless from their kiss. When they'd regulated their breathing, she smiled shyly up at him, a light blush dusting over her cheeks. Remus returned her smile and leaned in to kiss her once more.

"Remus, you're still married," she whispered softly, turning away so his kiss landed on her cheek.

After a small pause he stated, "You feel guilty."

She nodded, "Tonks is my friend. I can't do this to her."

"The divorce is going through in a week, after all this time, I can wait that long. If you'll have me, of course."

"Remus, I love you," she smiled at him, shaking her head. "How could you ever think I wouldn't?"

"Soon-to-be divorced werewolf in his forties with a young child doesn't exactly sound appealing," he said, sounding a little ashamed.

"It does to me, I love everything about you, even your lycanthropy," she told him, "It's what makes you, you."

"And are you sure you want this – want me?" his voice was strained and nervous.

"As sure as I've ever been," she said, snuggling down in his lap as he kissed the top of her head.

"Good," was his only response.

"This all feels like a dream," she breathed, minutes later, still slightly in shock.

"But it's not, Hermione. I really do love you. I always will."

"I've always imagined this moment, but that's all it was, a figment of my imagination, a daydream, a fantasy. I know it sounds horribly cheesy, but you really have made all my dreams come true."

His arms tightened around her and he buried his head in her neck, "You are truly amazing, Hermione."

"Next week," she whispered to herself, "You're sure?"

"Positive," he chuckled, kissing the side of her neck lightly.

"I hope I can wait that long," she said, her voice hitching as his teeth brushed gently over her skin.

"You'll be able to, I know you will. You can do anything you put that brilliant mind of yours to."

She blushed slightly, "We should probably get back," she told him, pushing him away from her neck playfully.

"I guess you're right," he sighed, "Come on, then."

They stood and brushed themselves off, before descending from the attic.

"Hermione?" Remus asked nervously as they came to the final staircase.

"Yes?"

"Would you like to have dinner with me next week?"

She smiled and kissed his cheek, "I'd love too."

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**Go over to the Twin Exchange and read the other entries, they're all really good =]**


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